No Rain
by ShelleyL
Summary: When Grandpa Joe is admitted to the hospital after a heart attack, Charlie must learn the hardest lesson of all: letting go. WonkaOC.


Disclaimer: Sorry, just doing this for my own sick pleasures, which means I'm receiving no money for this at all.

The hospital was decorated in general blues and greens, with the odd beige hallway. It had been a long time since Charlie Bucket had seen the inside of a hospital, almost 5 years by his count. Back then it had been him in the generic hospital bed, his body fighting a virus that almost took his young life. That had been one of the most frightening experiences of his twelve years, being alone in a wardroom with three other considerably older patients, without his parents and grandparents to tuck him in and wish him goodnight.

The nurses had been kind enough, but they were busy, and slightly cynical. He hardly ever saw the doctors, as they came only once a day, and even then not at all sometimes. There had been one, he could clearly recall, a young woman with dark blonde hair and shocking pale blue eyes. In one of his fever induced hallucinations she had wiped his forehead, and whispered motherly endearments softly in his ear. He cherished those memories, and it was thoughts like that that kept him believing in the general kindness of the human race.

She had introduced herself afterward his fever had broken as Beth Black, a new intern at the hospital. Once all the nurses had left, and the doctors, and finally his family, an hour after visiting hours, of course, she had given him a plain brown, slightly worn teddy bear. "Keep him safe Charlie, he was mine when I was in the hospital, not much older than you," she said quietly to him, her eyes suspiciously wet. "A nurse gave him to me when I was in the hospital with the measles. I've kept him ever since." She closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again, startling him with the intensity of her stare. "I thought that maybe you might need him more than I do now." She smiled wistfully.

Charlie, exhausted from simply staying awake after a very serious fever, merely clutched the bear and package close to his chest, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

When he awoke the next day, it was to find his bear and package set carefully onto the nightstand. His Grandma Josephine was sitting on a chair by his bed, reading an old magazine. He moved to sit up a bit more, groggy and lethargic. She looked up, a bit startled. "Oh Charlie, your awake! How are you feeling, dear?"

He smiled a small but tired smile. "I'm fine Grandma Josephine. Just a little tired, and a little peckish."

His grandmother smiled a bit. "Well, I think I can take care of that right now." Reaching over to her left, she grabbed the teddy bear and package off the nightstand. She handed him the bear, but looked at the package.

Charlie also got his first real look at the package, and noticed a yellow post-it note attached to it. "What does it say Grandma?"

She squinted to see the slightly messy handwriting, reading aloud as she sorted through half-formed vowels and slanted consonants. "The nurse also gave me this, Beth." She looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. "Seems you've an admirer Charlie. Well, here you go."

Charlie blushed and took the package from her pleasantly wrinkly hand. He knew the shape, and his heart leapt in his throat as he opened it to find a Wonka bar, a Whipple Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight. He grinned then, all fatigue forgotten. His grandmother smiled at him. "That girl knows what she's taking about. Nothing like a bit of good chocolate to make you feel better." She smiled at him again, and duly accepted the piece he handed to her. As she smelled it, she sighed and said, "Our little secret Charlie." And from that day on, he only preferred the Whipple Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight bars for his birthday presents.

Five years past, and in that span Charlie came to be a young man of twelve, with the dubious honor of being Willy Wonka's heir. And now his Grandpa Joe was in the hospital, and it scared Charlie to imagine his beloved grandfather in a more depressing setting. Sure, Joe was fine for the first few days, but as it does with all people, the atmosphere began to wear, and he had reverted back to his bedridden days in the tiny Bucket house.

It scared Charlie to see this, as Grandpa Joe had never seemed more alive to Charlie than the last 2 years at the Factory. As he walked down the hall, sandwiched between his parents, Charlie looked around at the familiar, yet unfamiliar sights. The blue-green décor made him feel low, as if the walls themselves were bleeding sadness. Charlie shook his head, realizing he was becoming victim to the hospital's ambiance.

Grandpa Joe had been admitted after experiencing a minor heart attack, which Mrs. Bucket had lessened the effect of by administering his medication on time. Mrs. Bucket had then insisted on taking her father to the hospital, delicately refusing Willy's offer of Oompa Loompa care for as long as Joe needed it. Joe was then picked up in an ambulance, which Mrs. Bucket rode with him in to get him settled. She returned later that night, exhausted and emotionally fragile. Her father had been frail, but had never been this sick. The angina attacks were far and few between, but this heart attack was not something she was going to take lightly.

So Grandpa Joe had gone to the hospital, looking weak and white, and Charlie knew something was greatly wrong with his favorite grandfather. Charlie and his parents passed the nurse's station, where several nurses in colorfully patterned scrubs were checking charts and medication carts. Some waved, or smiled cheerfully, and other simply looked exhausted and world-weary. It looked to Charlie that some could use a good bar of chocolate at that moment, simply to make the world look a little brighter.

Charlie looked up at his mother as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Mum, should we have brought Grandpa Joe some chocolate, you know, to make him feel better?"

Mrs. Bucket smiled a small smile. "I don't think that your grandfather's allowed any chocolate Charlie, but, I'll tell you what. You ask the doctor when she comes around, and then we'll see, okay?"

Charlie seemed less enthused, but favored his mother with a small smile. "That sounds alright." He seemed to think a little more, and then asked another question, directed at both of his parents. "Do you think Willy would be willing to come and visit Grandpa Joe? I'm sure Grandpa Joe would love that."

Mrs. Bucket glanced at Mr. Bucket, telling him in looks that this was his question. "Well Charlie, we'd have to ask him, but Willy doesn't seem like a hospital type person. Too many germs for him, I'd say." Seeing his son's face fall, he amended quickly, "But that doesn't mean he'll say no, Willy has changed quite a bit from when we first met him."

That was certainly true, as Charlie knew. Willy had adjusted well to the family living in his Chocolate Room, and was even known to visit his father, all alone, on occasion. Charlie had found a kindred spirit in his mentor. The candy they came up with was spectacular, and sales had been excellent for Wonka's candy. However, the older Charlie got, the more he resented being thought of as and being treated like a child. He often became angry when such thoughts crossed his mind, as he loved being an apprentice chocolatier, and he loved living in the Factory with the Oompa Loompas and Willy.

His thoughts were cut short as they fast approached the door to Grandpa Joe's room. When he turned and faced the mostly closed door, he could hear voices speaking quietly in the sterile room. His mother knocked on the door, and Charlie heard his grandfather say in a rather soft voice, "Come in."

Charlie pushed the door open all the way, easing into the room with both parents right behind him. He inhaled swiftly, as the situation was bringing back painful memories, ones he had forgotten for many years. His grandfather was sitting up in the pristinely made bed, wearing his own pajamas and glasses. Charlie, for the first minute of his entrance, kept his eyes on his grandfather, making sure he wouldn't just disappear. He then turned his eyes toward the woman Grandpa Joe had been taking to.

"Doctor Black." Charlie vaguely heard his grandfather say, "This is my daughter and her husband, and my grandson Charlie." Charlie managed a ghost of a smile, but all his attention was on the figure of Dr. Black.

She hadn't changed much, she was less thin and drawn then she was when he had last seen her, and her hair was a much lighter shade of blonde. Her eyes were still that electric blue, and she seemed shockingly attractive, even in the desperately unattractive green scrubs she wore. Charlie felt heat rushing into his face, and instinctively knew he was turning a rather bright shade of red. He had recently discovered girls, and the attractiveness of the female form, and was uncertain as how to do anything when in the company of an attractive girl, let alone woman.

She smiled at him, her slightly crooked two front teeth suddenly obvious with the widening of her grin. She held out her hand, "Charlie! It's wonderful to see you. Recovered from the measles, eh?" He took her hand in his, and gave it a firm shake, like Willy had taught him when he had first come to the factory. He released her hand, and she took a step back, and introduced herself to his parents. Once the pleasantries were commenced, she began updating them on Grandpa Joe's condition. "Joe is doing fine. We have him on…"

The words that came from her lovely mouth faded away, and Charlie took the time to take stock of his grandfather. He looked pale, to be sure, but not as pale as he was after the minor heart attack. Charlie approached the bed slowly, jumping up onto the bed as his grandfather indicated with a gentle pat of his hand. "Well, Charlie, what is new at the factory? Any good new ideas?"

Charlie smiled. "Just the usual. A new flavor here and there, nothing too interesting," said Charlie, not wanting to make his grandfather feel like he was missing anything.

Grandpa Joe's eyes twinkled, catching onto what was making Charlie so hesitant about his work. "Now Charlie, don't worry about me. Soon I'll be out of this beastly place and back home, ready to listen to all your ideas. Besides," he added with a sly grin and a whisper, "It isn't often you get a doctor as pretty as that one, eh?" He nudged Charlie, and smiled when he turned tomato red once again. Once Charlie's blush had calmed slightly, Joe turned a little more sober. "You know Charlie, it'll be alright."

Charlie, realizing the mood had changed, nodded. "I know Grandpa Joe, it's just hard, that's all." He bowed his head and flicked his fingers against the coarse top blanket.

Grandpa Joe nodded sagely. "I remember when my grandfather died, in fact, I was only a little older than you."

Charlie's head snapped up and his fingers quit their dance at this. "Don't say that." He said quietly and slowly, raising his eyes to look into Joe's. "You're not going to die." He lowered his head again and continued to fiddle with the cover.

Grandpa Joe's eyes softened slightly, and he patted Charlie on the back. "Everyone dies Charlie, just like how everyone is born."

Charlie's head jerked up again, but this time his eyes were filled with tears. "Quit saying that!" He said louder, tears running down his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his hands against his face, and swiftly jumped off the bed and ran out of the room.

The Buckets took notice of this action, and Mrs. Bucket made to go after Charlie, Dr. Black stopped her. "You have a visit with your father, I'll go get him."

Mrs. Bucket hesitated, seeing as the doctor was a complete stranger to her, but Grandpa Joe added, "It's alright dear, he needs someone who understands."

The Buckets looked at Dr. Black, who blushed and coughed delicately. "Yes, rather. I'll bring him back as soon as I can." She glanced back at Grandpa Joe. "Remember, if you have any problems, call the nurses, that's what they are here for." Grandpa Joe opened his mouth, as if to object. Dr. Black stopped him, saying, "No more, I'll talk to you again when I make another set of rounds tomorrow, alright?" He nodded, and she added, "Have a nice visit, and I'll be back with Charlie."

The Buckets nodded, as did Grandpa Joe. "Hurry along dear, he'll not have gotten far." When the doctor was gone, Grandpa Joe looked at his daughter. "You need to talk to Charlie about death." When Mrs. Bucket opened her mouth to protest, he added gently, "You know it and I know it. That heart attack was not as harmless as everyone thought. Now, Dr. Black seems confident about a recovery, but an old man knows when it is time, and I have a feeling mine is fast approaching."

Charlie had run to the stairwell located at the far end of the hallway, and was currently sitting on the top stair, his hands hugging his knees and his arms wrapped around them. This was how Dr. Black found him, looking small and sad against the sterile environment of the stairwell. She sat down next to him, extending her legs and examining her green-laced sneakers. They were silent for a few moments, Dr. Black looking at her feet, Charlie staring straight ahead, tears running down his face, sniffing every once in a while.

Dr. Black looked at him. "I remember when my grandfather died. My father's father I mean. He was my Papa Black." She smiled suddenly, seemingly lost in memories. "He had a big beer belly, and when I was little I used to ask him when his baby was due. He also only had one arm, having lost the other in an industrial accident." Tears gathered in her eyes suddenly. "He had been an alcoholic, and when I was a little girl, they expected him to die of liver failure, and everyone had accepted it."

Charlie interrupted, "How could they just accept that? They must have loved him, didn't they?" At Dr. Black's hesitant nod, he continued, "Then how could they have just accepted that? There must have been something they could do."

Dr. Black looked at him, but Charlie knew she was somewhere else, remembering. "I know what you mean, because I was the only one that couldn't accept it. My siblings thought I was being a baby, because they understood what death was and what it meant. When I was small, I had a fear of death. To me, to die was the worst thing in the world, because I didn't fully understand what it was or what it meant. So I went to the hospital when they thought it was his time. While everyone hung back, waiting, I went forward to him and I whispered into his ear, "Papa Black, you can't die yet, you can't leave me!" And so on and so forth." Dr. Black became silent at this. "My mother told me I went into hysterics and they had to slap me to get me to calm down. But, I had achieved something. Papa Black did not die that day."

Charlie waited, wanting to hear the rest. "So what happened then?" He asked quietly.

Dr. Black looked at him. "He lived another ten years, and died peacefully in his sleep when I as eighteen." She looked at him then, and the look in her eyes was frightening in its intensity. "The only sadness I felt was that my nieces and nephews will never get to meet him, to be with him." She smiled then, a peaceful smile. "I was old enough to realize then that he never really left me at all, since I carry a piece of him in me at all times: my genes, my blood. And that is what is important."

Charlie looked at her, slightly calmed, but still quite upset. "I don't know if I could be as strong as you, Dr. Black," he stated quietly.

She smiled at him; her two crooked front teeth showing again. "Call me Beth, Charlie, I have a feeling I'll be seeing a lot of you in the next little while." She stood up, languidly stretching. "How about I show you where you can wash your face off, then we'll go see your grandfather, eh?"

Charlie sniffled, wiping his face on the sleeve of his jumper. "That sounds fantastic." His smile was watery as he got up too, and followed his new friend out into the hallway.

Upon returning to Grandpa Joe's room, Charlie stood awkwardly in the doorway, not knowing what to say. Mr. And Mrs. Bucket got up, said their goodbyes to Grandpa Joe, and left, waiting for Charlie outside. The room was silent, until a pager announcing the end of visiting hours could be heard out in the hall. Charlie walked over to Grandpa Joe's bed, and embraced him hard, nearly squeezing the breath out of the poor man.

Joe took it all in stride, and returned the hug, albeit a little more gently. He nodded when Charlie whispered, "I love you," in his ear, and gave him a small kiss on the forehead. Charlie ended the hug, and nodding to his grandfather, left the room to join his parents outside.

There is the first chapter, and I need a beta, so anyone interested, please don't hesitate to email me.


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